I’m sat alone. Cup of tea in front of me, the only noise a clock ticking. No people, no noise… an oasis of calm. And I’m wondering why the fuck I apologised.
A year ago today, someone I trusted did a bad thing. I don’t talk about it on the blog, I don’t talk about it at all now.
It broke me in many ways but I put the work in to repair the damage. I wanted to.
I value that person and our friendship, and wanted to work it through. We went out for dinner last night and they said something that triggered me, and I snarked, completely unexpectedly and out of the blue.
“Oh gosh, I’m sorry!” I exclaimed, shocked at my reaction. “It’s because of (the thing) and it’s still in my head and I can’t quite get past it. I’m sorry I’m having a go about it still. It happened. It’s gone. It’s in the past.”
“You shouldn’t apologise,” they replied. “It’s okay.”
But in my head, I continued the conversation… You’re right. I shouldn’t apologise. You should. And it’s not okay.
And today, clock ticking a relentless even beat, hot tea in front of me, I’m angry with myself.
I’m angry I felt the need to apologise for the consequences of their action. I’m angry that I’d never have chosen this yet here I am, and it’s irrevocably changed me.
I’m harder to break, harder to break into, more vulnerable on the inside. But I do now know my boundaries, and what I will and won’t accept. My mental health has gotten worse and it shows no sign of getting better. I have to accept it’s part of me now and not a temporary thing… the daily anxiety and the regular drop.
I ask myself one question when I feel that way… “Do I want to be here?” It’s nothing suicidal, just the thought that it would be easier if I just weren’t here.
And whatever the answer, I let myself get a little angry at an aspect of what’s led me to this stage. And it seems to kickstart my brain a little.
Perhaps I’d be in this mental state anyway, but it seems paradoxical that the one thing that triggered this is the thing that helps me overcome it.
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